Between Evening and Dawn
by thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: Tauriel, newly orphaned and wounded, is the last living elf after orcs attack Mirkwood soldiers. Taken by Azog, she loses herself and slowly becomes trapped inside her new life amongst orcs. Unexpectedly freed by Thorin's company, she discovers that she has the chance to free herself from Azog once and for all. Azog/Tauriel, Filkiliel, and Thilbo
1. Chapter 1

Tauriel remembered the blood. She remembered the way that it caked in her hair and covered her clothes. Bits of it had dried onto her skin, and there was no water around to be found.

The dirty ground was wet, bugs crushed beneath her, and mud covering whatever else of her hair wasn't dirty.

Pain shot through her arms, and for a moment the idea of grabbing one of her knives or shooting another arrow repulsed her. She couldn't even stand any longer, the gash in her legs forcing her down. Blood poured out of it, turning her leg red and pink.

She should have listened to her mother.

"Tauriel, your father and I trust that you can fight. We helped to train you after all."

Tauriel closed her eyes. The dark, tree branch filled sky vanished, and was quickly replaced by her mother's warm green eyes.

"Tauriel, orcs are nothing like spiders." She sighed. "Promise me that you won't be so reckless."

Slowly, her image faded away.

* * *

Azog looked to the sky, his dark eyes wide. He took two long sniffs, and then turned back to the others. "I smell Oakenshield and his kin."

Tauriel bit her lip. She had known Azog was heading to Dol Goldur while still having his eyes set on capturing the dwarves, but she had hoped it would be a side issue. The stray dwarves - miners and traders near Bree whom had all worn different style clothing - had just seemed like a sport to Azog and the others, nothing more. It was just supposed to get the wargs something else to chew on.

"How far away are they?" asked another Orc. "I need to test how sharp my axe is; will it go through a dwarf's head or only half way?"

A few of the other orcs started laughing and raising their weapons high.

Tauriel's stomach twisted.

Azog only raised his arm and pointed it forward. "We can stop to rest later. As of now, our only thoughts are on the dwarves. If we do not go after them now then we risk losing them." His glare deepened. "I am not losing Oakenshield again."

Tauriel looked over to Diolir. She was still chewing on the bone of a captured deer, seemingly too focused on the very last of her food to notice what was going on. Tauriel's wargs eyes met her own, and she dropped her bone.

"We must be going." Tauriel reached out and quickly scratched the back of her ear.

Diolir merely stood up, her back high. With shaking legs, Tauriel mounted her.

* * *

The Orcs had chased the dwarves to the edge of Rivendell before they themselves were chased away by elves. Azog had ordered the troops to reposition, his eyes never leaving her as he did so. She had found herself straight in the center, Orcs covering her on all sides.

Perhaps it was better that way; Azog didn't want the elves to see her, and she did not want to see them. Elves were strong, but they too could fall, bodies lying like lost dolls in the dirt. In between screams there were always mourning cries.

Diolir raced forward, her sharp fangs bared. Of the two, she was the one far more bothered by this arrangement; as one of the fastest wargs, she needed to be up front where she could run freely. Back here, she had to slow for other wargs.

I'm sorry, Tauriel thought. She grabbed an arrow from her quiver and prepared her bow. Though she doubted that she would have to actually fire it, it was still better to have one and try and be safe.

Her dark hood had long since dropped from the wind, and her red hair hung free.

Below her, the crushed grass began to turn red.

* * *

She had woken up to the sound of orcs chattering. Her body still ached, and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.

"Only one elf left," an Orc had said. It had taken her years to finally figure out what the Orcs had spoken on that cruel day.

"Why isn't the ugly beast dead?" another had replied. "All the others are gone."

"I thought that this one was dead, but she wasn't. Master Azog noticed it." The Orc paused for a moment. "This one, this elf, is different."

Though at the time she could not recognize the words, a shiver had run up Tauriel's spine.

In only a moment she was frozen once more. The two orcs had looked over to her, meeting her directly in the eye. They grinned, showing off small, yellow knives. She doubted they would pose for a portrait looking like that.

"Well, well, well, the beast awoke. The scum really did survive."

Sweat formed on the back of her neck. With what little strength that she still had left, she reached for weapons that were not there.

"Go," said one of the orcs to the other. "Master Azog will be pleased to hear of this." He looked back to her.

She struggled to sit up, the Orc all the while watching her. She had been stripped of her weapons, save the knives hidden in her boots. If the orc could just look away then she could grab both of them. They were small, yes, but better than nothing.

Her arms still shook, and part of her just wanted to collapse back into the dirt. Her leg had been (surprisingly) bandaged over, but it still ached as well.

A short time later, the Orcs returned with another. This Orc was paler than most of the others, with swords in each hand. He looked strange and sickly compared to the others, though his glare was harder than the other Orcs.

She didn't wait for the Orcs to look away. Tauriel forced off her boots, grabbing her knives, and propelled herself forward. Judging by the area around her, she was still in Mirkwood; she had run around barefoot in the forest before, and she would do it again.

Her knives went straight through the Orc's face, and she just as quickly pushed herself upwards again. For a moment, she rode through the air, her knives raised. Once her feet hit the ground, she raced forward.

* * *

Everyone was silent around the fire that night. There were no jokes or discussions of planned future victories. Most simply ate and slept, too exhausted from the day earlier.

From the corner of her eye, Tauriel watched Azog. He was especially grim that night, and barely seemed to be touching his food. Tauriel's eyes watered at the sight of his meat; she was nearly finished with her own.

After a while, he seemed to catch her gaze and handed her his meat. Her eyes met his own for a moment, and her eyes drifted down towards the scars that still covered his face. A lump formed in her throat, and she again wondered why they had not healed. Azog only had one worse injury, one that anyone could see without ever meeting his face.

"Will we keep heading after the dwarves tomorrow?" Tauriel asked.

"Aye," Azog responded. "You are angered, are you not? I know you wish to face the Necromancer yourself. Few willingly go to him."

She shook her head. "Your feud should end."

Despite everything that happened earlier, he gave her a small smile. "I cannot wait until it is finally over. It's propelled me forward, yet I want it over."

Tauriel continued to eat her meat, though slower this time. Diolir slept at her feet, warm fur brushing up against Tauriel's legs.

* * *

With the Orcs now surrounding her, their large hands wrapped around her body and holding her up like a flimsy rag doll, she wondered how she was even still alive. Her leg still ached, and dried blood still covered her.

The head of the Orcs grinned down at her, its scars looking already to have stopped bleeding from where she had attacked it.

It spoke, and in that moment Tauriel was glad to not yet understand its tongue.

* * *

They had to go over the goblin's mountain to get to the dwarves. By the time that they caught up, Azog was grinning from ear to ear. Tauriel was near the front, her hood covering her face and dark gloves covering her hands. Her bow was ready in case she needed to fire.

Diolir raced happily; surely her stomach was grumbling.

The dwarves, Tauriel noticed, looked weak and scattered. Most of them looked afraid, and none seemed to immediately resemble Oakenshield from what she could see.

As much as she loved her warg, the dwarves did not deserve to become Diolir's dinner.

The dwarves headed towards the trees, yelling frantically to each other. They were like ants escaping from a nest filling with water.

She raised her bow and fired. None of the other Orcs seemed to notice how her arrows sailed past the dwarves so conveniently, close and yet just not close enough.

Keep moving, she thought. Get into the trees.

With Dol Goldur so close, she doubted that the other dwarves would be chased so long as Azog could get Oakenshield. Even the wizard that was rumored to be traveling with them did not bother Azog as much as his enemy did.

The Orcs began to dismount, leaving the Wargs to either stay behind or fight if they wished. Diolir herself showed her fangs and kept close to Tauriel.

Each step was careful. She continued to fire, every arrow close but not close enough.

Fiery pine cones rained down from the air, and Tauriel jumped past them. The Wargs were shocked, but the Orcs kept forward. Standing close to Diolir, she watched Azog step forward.

Were it not for her bow then she feared she would have helped force the trees down.

Cries rang through the air. First they were screams and then cries of protest.

Tauriel's heart skipped a beat.

Thorin Oakenshield up close was so different from what she had expected. For all that Azog had spoken of him, she had been sure that he was closer to a deity than a dwarf. Still, he looked so average - muscular and bearded, but so were other dwarves. There was nothing strikingly different about him.

She looked Diolir in the eyes one last moment, and then raced forward. Tauriel didn't even know what she needed to do, but standing around would do nothing.

Azog and Thorin cried and their swords clashed. Azog's dreams were finally coming true.

Tauriel froze near them but did not fight. Her grip on her bow weakened.

What could she really do? She was in the middle of who knew where with only a few arrows left. Azog had proven before that his tracking abilities were great. Besides, the dwarves looked ready to fall at any moment.

It seemed Azog would soon have everything that he ever wanted.

Tauriel forced her eyes shut.

Dol Goldur is close, she thought. Remember that.

When she again opened her eyes, she found Azog knocking Thorin to the ground. His large body thumped to the ground, nothing but a bug under Azog's feet.

Tauriel's heart raced. Even if he got a wounded leg, she doubted that Azog would spare him. He may have been different from most dwarves, but that surely would not save him, not when he so desired Thorin Oakenshield's head so much.

Even from this distance angle, Tauriel could see him grinning. Her stomach churned.

From the corner of her eyes, she looked to Yazneg. He too looked slightly stressed, though Azog himself was delighted.

She gripped her bow tighter. All those years of listening to Azog cry (more often that not in anger), watching him face the loss of his arm, and listen to him swear vengeance was finally coming to an end.

Azog raised his sword with one hand.

Tauriel shut her eyes.

When she opened them a few seconds later, she saw Thorin up, Azog on the ground, and a creature with no shoes on holding a sword.

He's still alive, Tauriel thought. She stepped away, heading back towards Diolir. This was Azog's fight alone.

As she forced herself past the fire, her hood fell off. She did not bother to put it back on; the dwarves likely would not notice her after all. Their own sights were set on their king.

She searched for Diolir through the smoke. The wood of her bow dug into her skin.

Dol Goldur, she thought. Diolir. Dol Goldur. Diolir.

The words echoed through her mind and connected with loose images.

I need, she thought, her heart racing and mind as smoke filled as the land around her, I need to get out of here.

It took her a moment to realize that her feet were off the ground. She looked down, her bow clutched tightly in her hand. Her legs moved around in the air, reaching for ground that was not there. As the moments passed, more and more Eagles filled the sky, taking dwarves with them. All the while, the Eagle holding her around the shoulders clung to her tighter and cried out to the other eagles.

Below her, Diolir howled.

* * *

For the second time in her life, she awoke to others chattering above her while her body ached. Slowly, her eyes opened.

The sky was clear, showing only a few fluffy white clouds. Her arms ached more than her legs, and it took a lot of energy to force herself up.

Where am I? She thought. None of the voices had sounded like any of the Orcs that she knew.

Her legs shook, though she locked eyes with a number of dwarves, a wizard, and that creature from earlier.

"The elf is up," one said.

"Th-Thorin Oakenshield?" Tauriel asked. He was the one closest to her. He looked dirty and tired, so different from the courageous fighter from the night before. At his side was the creature, who looked like a man though much smaller and with hair covered feet. Thorin had his arm around him.

Her eyes darted around. It looked as though they were high above any surface.

"You are alive?" Tauriel rubbed the side of her head. "And the Orcs are gone?"

"Yes," replied the furry footed creature. His sword was at his side. "The Orcs fled."

The tears came in an instant. The Orcs were gone, nowhere in sight. Even as the eagles had pulled her away and she felt herself lose consciousness, she had been sure that somehow she would wake up with Diolir at her side and Azog's watchful eyes over her.

The tears did nothing to keep her wobbly legs from falling.

Surprisingly, it was Thorin Oakenshield who stopped her fall. She found her face in his shoulders.

"Please tell me Azog is dead." Her voice had risen, and the tears came down harder.

Before anyone could reply, two dwarves burst out laughing.

"Kili, do you see that?"

"Certainly!"

"I'm glad that my eyes aren't deceiving me then. Uncle Thorin is hugging an elf!"


	2. Chapter 2

Azog had slept fitfully the night before. His dreams always involved the same dwarf; in each one, Thorin got closer and closer to him. It had started with chasing him, running through endless fields in search of a dwarf who was always one step ahead of him. Then, Thorin had been captured a few times or spies had been able to grab him, though Azog himself had never been in front of him. Just before he had woken up, his dreams had shifted slightly, to where he was so close to Thorin that he could see the very fear in his blue eyes; with his free hand, he easily could have wrapped it around Thorin's neck and squeezed.

He woke up before that could happen. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light. Sitting up, he looked around. Yazneg was leaned up against the side of a tree and snoring loudly. The other Orcs were still asleep, either all curled up together or dotted around the clearing, their weapons right by their bodies. A few were even cuddled up against their wargs.

The only other being who was awake seemed to be Diolir. Azog's own warg, Tianil, was asleep. The night before, she had stayed up late to clean her white fur.

Diolir looked over to him for a moment, and then her yellow eyes returned to the ground. Ever since they had stopped to make camp the night before, the warg had laid down and refused to move. Before then, she had howled constantly for her mistress; Azog honestly could not tell which he disliked more. On one hand, her constant howling had been annoying, but on the other hand she looked no better lying on the ground. Every once in a while, she whimpered and moved her tail in just the slightest way. Had Azog not seen it then he would have thought that the warg had turned into a statue.

Diolir had not touched any of her meat the night before.

As Azog slowly stretched out his muscles, he could not help but notice how cold his skin was. Most nights, whenever Tauriel did not curl up with Diolir, she would lean into his good side. He was far larger than her, but she had long since stopped noticing. Using his one arm, he pulled her closer.

He leaned down on his knees and ran his hand through Diolir's fur. The warg stiffened beneath him.

"Relax," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were only inches away from her pointed ears. "Tauriel will be back in no time. We just need to rescue her from Oakenshield and the rest of his scum."

Diolir growled, showing off sharp teeth.

"They'll pay." Azog grinned. "You will make them."

Slowly, Diolir stood.

Azog walked over to where his small supply bag. Carefully, he opened it and pulled out a torn piece of green cloth.

Diolir was scratching herself with one of her legs when Azog returned. She froze when she saw the cloth, and took a long sniff when he held it out to her.

"Follow the scent," Azog said. "There are great things ahead."

Diolir licked his arm.

* * *

As the group had climbed down the mountain, Tauriel had felt everyone's eyes on her. Even with shaking legs, she had done her best to walk by herself. No one needed to be touching her, especially not Thorin. That had been an accident.

Right now, all she really needed was to be alone.

It had hit her slowly just how much trouble she was in. The pieces of the puzzle had connected in her mind only after she even realized it needed to be solved.

Tauriel took a step onto solid, grassy ground. Her arms were wrapped around her chest, and she had positioned her hair to block off her vision of the others.

Behind her, a dwarf whispered in his own tongue. A shiver ran up her spine; she had no hope of ever translating it. Just as quickly, the dwarf responded. A whole flurry of whispers began, and Tauriel could already feel the ground on her face.

You shouldn't be here, a voice in her head told her. She hadn't heard that voice in a while, and it was louder than usual, as if to make up for its absence. You have to leave now.

She had heard it even before she met Azog; it had been easier to ignore back then. Even then, however, she had been unable to discover just who the voice was. It had been too deep to be her father's, and sounded too sober to be her Uncle Galion's. Her mother never could have sounded like that (even if she had been able to do a spot on impression of Thranduil), and neither her king nor his son could have sounded like that if they tried. The Orcs had no one similar.

If it was anyone, then it couldn't have been her.

She wrapped her arms around her chest tighter. The dwarves spoke on, chattering away in Khuzdul.

You don't belong here.

Tauriel forced her eyes shut.

You know this is not how things are supposed to be.

Bile rose in her throat, the thick taste of yesterday's meat filling her mouth.

You don't even know what you're doing here.

* * *

The dwarves continued to speak in their native tongue while they ate. The wizard, Gandalf, was silent as well, sitting right next to the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. The wizard was taller than his friend even when he sat; he was taller than even Tauriel.

She still had yet to meet him in the eyes.

Bilbo Baggins was much smaller. He ate slowly, taking long sips of the broth in his stew, and slowly tearing apart his piece of bread. Every movement was deliberate. Looking at him was almost as hard as doing the same for Gandalf - both quickly caught on that they were being watched.

Only two dwarves had volunteered to sit near here. One had dark hair and the other one hair much lighter; both had similar facial shapes. She couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but they reminded her of the joking dwarves from up on the carrock.

Tauriel did not take her time to eat. Once the bowl was in her hand, full of steaming hot stew, and the piece of bread in her hand, she had dug in. The bread had been mixed with the broth and vegetables, and stuffed in her face in minutes. The meat had been saved for last, each precious piece untouched until needed.

She took one piece between her fingers, juices wetting her fingertips. She popped it into her mouth and started chewing it. As soon as it was swallowed, she grabbed the next.

The meat was rough against her tongue, and would have been pretty dry were it not for the broth. It certainly wasn't venison, and it lacked the taste of beef or chicken. It wasn't even warg meat; that was tougher, and didn't take nearly as much cooking. Rarely did anyone ever eat it, and not unless needed, but Tauriel would have recognized the taste anywhere.

As questions ran circles inside her head, she continued to put in piece after piece of meat. Every juice that fell on her lips or fingers were licked away.

If she had to, perhaps she could learn to enjoy the taste.

* * *

The Orcs had retreated from Mirkwood; all the while, Tauriel had kept her eyes open for extra soldiers that were not coming. Her throat had tightened, and had she had any weapons left then she had no idea what she would actually do with them.

From the back of the dirty cart that she had been shoved in, she watched Mirkwood retreat into nothing. The enchantment that the forest held became nothing; if the Orcs were bothered by the forest, then they did not show it. Tauriel's own parents had struggled with it many days while out fighting, and her parents had trained to fight for years. There were some days where she had waited for them to return home, heart racing and skin pale; one wrong step or one hallucination and they could be gone forever.

Sometimes she wished for a spider to appear, the thought dancing in and out of her head. It would have been so fitting, especially since more and more had started to appear recently.

No spider ever came, however, though she did watch large, empty webs pass them by. The webs looked like the blood of ghosts.

Beside herself, no one was in the cart. It was a large, empty space, with only a few areas open for peering outside. Darkness filled most of it, and it smelled like piss and old wood.

With most of her energy drained and her leg aching, she lay against the edge, her back supported by old wood.

The next time that she looked outside, all that she saw were miles and miles of empty green fields. Not one single tree could be seen in the distance.

She walked to each side and looked out through every hole in the wood that she could find, no matter how big or small. The sea of grass appeared only thicker, and she saw a few Orcs with supply wagons.

Collapsing against the side of the cart once more, she closed her eyes and cried.

* * *

"Go on," the blond dwarf said, "take it." He shook the bowl slightly, precious broth dripping over the side; Tauriel's heart skipped a beat.

Her throat was dry, and in only moments after finishing her food she was hungry again. The food before her seemed to sparkle.

He was only half finished.

The darker haired dwarf beside him looked at her curiously. Across from them, she could feel the eyes of the rest of the company.

Without thinking, she grabbed the bowl, careful to not spill anything. Using the spoon, she carefully took each piece of meat inside and put it in her own bowl. Once she had finished, and checked to make sure that she had not missed even the tiniest bit of meat, she handed it back to him.

She popped a large piece of meat into her mouth and began to chew. It was easier to ignore the flavor if she kept it away from her tongue. In the end, taste didn't matter; all she needed was the food inside her. Anything was better than a rumbling belly.

The blond dwarf was wide eyed, still staring at his own bowl.

"Well, Fili," the darker haired dwarf said. "I think that means that she's happy to meat you."

The blond dwarf, Fili, turned red, and the other laughed. He pulled his bowl back and continued to eat.

By the time everyone had finished eating, a dwarf wearing a large hat offered seconds to anyone interested. She raced over to the pot and grabbed the largest piece of meat from the very bottom with both of her hands. Stepping away from the pot, she bit inside, pulling off chunks of meat. She chewed and swallowed what she could, and then spit out the bones. The fat was juicy, and the meat was not as dry as earlier.

The bones littered the ground, and it was only when she finished and saw them untouched that she realized that Diolir was not going to chew on them.

Once she had licked every bit of juice from her fingers, she crushed the bones into the dirt.

* * *

The cart shook, giving her little chance to sleep. The times that she did, Tauriel dreamed of what had happened. Everything played out the same, and Tauriel woke up to find herself in a world somehow not covered in red.

Sometimes, the cart would stop, and some food would get thrown inside. Most of the time, it was a piece of meat, and other times a piece of hard, dry bread. She had to touch the bread carefully, or risk having it turn to nothing but dusty crumbs in her hands.

They never brought any water, and Tauriel's throat turned dryer and dryer. Her tongue hung limply in her mouth, and it took great effort to swallow.

Whatever she could not eat immediately, she saved. For hours sometimes she would hold a piece of bread or meat, taking small bites until finally she had managed to eat it all. As soon as she finished, the cart would stop, Orcs would chatter, and more food would be thrown inside. The process repeated itself.

Night and day were all the same to her. The cart was dark either way, and she had stopped bothering to look outside. It didn't matter what she saw, because it certainly would not be Mirkwood.

Sometimes the cart would stop for hours, and all she would hear was an occasional Warg crying out. Her heart would race, and she would only be able to sleep for a few hours at a time.

Those happened rarely, however, and she could not have been more thankful. Those were the times when the cart opened, and for a few brief minutes Orcs would enter inside. One would grab her legs and the other her arms. They scribbled down notes and spoke with each other, surveying nearly every inch of herself. Her clothes remained on, though they often would pull up the the sleeves of her shirt and pants to analyze the muscle around it.

New bandages were applied to her legs, and larger food rations came. After a while, they even started to bring water, letting her swallow entire buckets if she needed to. If they seemed bothered by the cart's smell, then the Orcs never showed it.

Once they left, shutting the door behind them, she would readjust her sleeves and lie on the ground, staring at the wall. Her heart throbbed in her chest, neck, and head. Every breath was a battle.

The worst, however, was when the Orcs surveyed her hair. Those were the days when Azog came with them, and wrapped his large, meaty hands in her hair. They commented among one another in their native tongue.

Tauriel froze. They had not looked at her too differently as other elves had, with wide eyes and testy fingers. Before, she had been able to fight the elves off.

Still, the Orcs did not look at her as some elves had. For all his faults, Azog had never looked at Tauriel's hair and his eyes widened and face paled (though Tauriel was not sure if that was even possible for an Orc of his complexion). No Orc had whispered in quick, scared Elvish, and weakly tried to hide their pointing finger.

No Orc looked at her as though she were Death's mortal incarnation.

She no longer wondered why her mother had wished that Tauriel had gained her mother's complexion and dark hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Sleeping was hard; pebbles dug into her back, and she had nothing close to a proper pillow. Mosquitoes and flies hung around, buzzing in her ears and landing on her skin. They sat only for a moment before being crushed; the small bruises and the pain from slapping herself built up. Sweat rolled down her back and neck, and her throat was again dry.

Still, she couldn't help but feel relief at still being awake; it wasn't as if an elf needed sleep. Nearly all the others in the company had fallen asleep already; their constant snores had done nothing to help her slumber.

With a sigh, she stood up and carefully stepped over everyone. The clearing was small, and everyone was close to one another. She abandoned the small blanket that Bilbo had loaned her. She would have to return it to him in the morning; the small thing did almost nothing for her.

The dwarf taking watch, an elderly one named Balin, watched her with hawk eyes. She looked back to him for a moment before stepping over another dwarf. Once she was at a nearby tree, she sat down and leaned against it. Her heart was racing, though she had barely moved.

Taking a few deep breaths, she looked up towards the sky. The stars still shone, just like they had the night before Tauriel had been taken. Even as a child, she had looked to them for comfort, often staring up at them intensely for hours.

"You know," her mother had once told her, scooping the small girl up into her arms. Tauriel had leaned her chin up against the taller woman's shoulder, bits of her soft, dark hair landing on Tauriel's chin. "They will still be here tomorrow."

"How do you know?" Tauriel had been young then, so young that she could still remember exactly when she had first seen stars. It had been long, long before anything had gone wrong. Giant spiders had been imaginary monsters, and dragons had not taken to the sky for years.

"I know because I used to be afraid that they would vanish as well. But do you want to know what I noticed about them?"

"What?" Tauriel's eyes had fluttered, and a yawn left her lips. Back then, she had been weaker than most elves, and one of the only children in Mirkwood. Elf children were rare, and it was even rarer for them to grow up beside another elf child around their own age. Most others were older, nearly adults.

"Then I kept seeing them every night. I do believe if they wanted to disappear, then they would have done so by now."

"But what if they do go away?" Tauriel's voice had shook.

Her mother held her tighter. "I promise that they won't go away."

"How do you know?"

"Because new ones will always appear."

Tauriel had taken the promise to heart, even if her mother had given no proof.

Yet as she looked to the sky that night, she knew for sure then that her mother must have been right.

The sky was bright; the stars hung next to a bright white coin, the full moon staring down at her. It was so large that it seemed as though she could have reached out and grabbed it, kept it for herself.

However, it was the stars that truly caught her eyes. They were sprinkled across the sky, glowing bright, like hundreds of thousands of eyes staring down at her. From what she could see, there seemed to be even more than when she had been a child. When she had been young, she had tried counting them!

Perhaps she should have looked out the cart on that fateful day; maybe Tauriel would have seen two new stars in the sky.

Her chest tightened, and she quickly looked away from the sky.

Her arms wrapped around herself, a hug that only she could return.

Bugs crawled along the ground. Unlike the flying pests from earlier, they were smart enough to avoid her. She watched an any walk towards her boot before promptly changing course; it was holding a crumb high. A few other ants followed after it.

She stared at the ground for the longest time, watching bugs scurry past and the ground slowly light up.

The sun rose, and the dwarves awoke one by one. There were a number of times when she felt their eyes on her, though she never looked up and met their eyes. It didn't take long for them to get the hint, and they looked away.

Her legs and arms were numb; she hadn't moved in hours. Her arms and legs were weak, though her eyes remained firmly open.

"Hungry?"

The sudden sound made her jump; her earlier weakness melted away, and she stood up tall, reaching for her bow.

Kiki stiffened. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Kili?"

His eyes widened. "Yes, Tauriel?"

She blinked a few times. Once her eyes opened again, she saw that it was still the dark haired dwarf standing before her. "I'm sorry." Her arms went to her sides, her hands empty. "You just scared me."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault." Her arms wrapped around her waist once more, and she hugged herself tighter. "I know that you didn't mean to."

"Well then, are you hungry?" Kiki cocked his thumb back towards the camp. "It was Fili's turn to help make breakfast porridge today. There's no meat, but I promise that the food isn't that bad."

Tauriel paused for a moment before nodding.

"Oh, don't look like that. My brother isn't that bad of a cook." He grinned. "Come with me; we need to get some now, before everyone else takes the good parts." He turned around, and she followed after him.

The porridge, as promised earlier, actually was not that bad. The moment the bowl was in her hands, all three dwarves' eyes were on her.

"Try it." Fili said.

Bombur merely raised an eyebrow.

As Tauriel raised the spoon to her lips, Kili stirred his own porridge around in his bowl.

"Well?" Fili asked the moment that she swallowed.

"It's good," Tauriel commented. She ate another spoonful.

"Good," Kili said. "That means that it's safe for me to eat!"

Fili rolled his eyes, and Kili snickered. The blond prepared a bowl for himself.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go sit down."

The three sat down near some trees. The smell of food drifted through the small camp, and Tauriel watched the other dwarves go up and serve themselves breakfast while she ate.

"Tauriel?"

"Huh?" She looked up from her bowl of porridge.

"Tauriel," Fili repeated. He placed his bowl of porridge down, only half finished.

"Yes?" Her eyes flickered back and forth from the food that she was eating to the two dwarves.

Fili took off his coat - underneath was a white linen shirt and hard, defined muscles. He held his coat out to her. "I hope that it's not too small."

With shaking hands, she placed her bowl of porridge down and pulled back her cloak. She took the coat from him and put it on; her arms fit through the sleeves, but they ended just a little past her elbows. It was a little high on her, ending a few inches above her waist.

"Thank you," Tauriel muttered. She wrapped her arms around her waist. "That was so..." She looked down to her lap. "So nice of you." She bit her lip. "Why is it so heavy?"

For a moment, both brothers were silent. Kili was smirking, and Fili was turning red.

Kili was the first to speak. "He wanted to do something knife for you."

Fili shook his head. "I, uh..." He scratched his arm. "Look in the pockets."

"All of them," Kili added. "There are a lot."

She reached into a pocket; her hand froze when she hit something cold. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around something and pulled it out.

The color drained from her face; sunlight gleamed off of the blade, and Tauriel's hand began to sweat onto the cold knife's handle.

"If you're worried," Fili said, "I have a lot more. I can let you borrow some of them."

"Yes!" Kili grinned. "He has a knife in his trousers, too; it might rise up and break through his pants!"

Fili turned red, and quickly covered his face with his hands.

Tauriel put the knife back in her pocket. Slowly, her hands entered every other pocket that she could find. Most were found through touch rather than sight. There were knives all over her.

Fili spoke again once his face had lost it's flush, and once Kili had stopped laughing. "I'm sorry it doesn't fit."

Tauriel blinked. Her limbs relaxed slightly, and she pulled her arms away from her chest. "Why?"

"Well, I was hoping that it would actually cover you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Tauriel, you're always..." He stopped for a moment. "You're always..." Again, he could not find the words. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged himself. "You're always doing this; I thought that my coat might help to warm you up."

Tauriel looked back down at herself. The garment was certainly small on her, but she could understand the gesture. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be." He shrugged. "I should have known that it would not have fit as well as I had hoped."

"That is not what I meant."

Fili's eyes widened, and he looked over to his brother. Kili simply shrugged.

"I'm not cold."

"Oh."

"Then why do you do-" Kili stopped mid sentence; his brother's glare was as sharp as the knives in her pockets.

For a long moment, there was complete and utter silence. Using her cloak to cover the front of her body, she dug around until she found the knife strapped to her side. It was not nearly as well made as the dwarfish blade, and the only one she had.

"Thank you." Tauriel finally said.

"You're welcome." Fili's eyes remained on the ground.

Tauriel bit her lip, but spoke on. "You know, I used to keep knives in my boots."

"Really?" Fili asked.

Kili's own eyes widened.

Tauriel nodded. The boots she currently wore were tight fitting, and had been specially commissioned by Azog for her; unlike her elvish boots, there was little chance of hiding anything in them. Still, plans were already running through her minds of ways to modify them.

"I do too."

"Really?"

Fili nodded. "Oh, yes."

"He would put knives in his hair if he could." Kili chuckled.

"Well you would put arrows in your trousers."

Kili nodded. "Hey, I could have anything down there!"

Fili pulled off his boots and dug around inside. The first knife he pulled from his left boot, and the second from his right. "You can never have enough." He held one of his socked feet up; a hole had formed through the top, and he wiggled a clearly visible big toe. "I need to make sure that this is protected."

Tauriel's laughter surprised even herself. Fili and Kili both grinned before joining along with her. Their laughter echoed along the camp, and she soon felt the eyes of the rest of the company on her back. However, her muscles only relaxed further; no one's eyes stayed on her for too long, instead turning to look at the two brothers.

* * *

Later, once breakfast had been finished, Tauriel's mood again dropped. The entire company's did as well, however, as if they had all together been robbed of something great.

"Gandalf," Thorin spoke, his voice clear and serious. His blue eyes were made of ice, and though the wizard was far taller than him, he met the wizard's eyes. "Which way should we head today?"

"We must keep east," Gandalf responded. "From there we should reach Mirkwood, and from there Lake Town and the lonely mountain."

Tauriel froze at the mention of her old home.

"I thought that we were going to walk around the forest."

"As of now, Thorin Oakenshield, we are set to walk through it. After all, it has a path inside." Gandalf clutched his staff tighter.

A few of the dwarves began to whisper frantically to one another, some in Khuzdul and some in Westron.

"I have heard that the place is cursed," Dori remarked.

"Who hasn't?" Nori responded.

"No one said that this quest would be easy," Dwalin said. "Still, Mirkwood? Even that I cannot stand the idea of."

Tauriel looked down to the ground; part of her wanted to pull her hood up and cover her face, and part of her wanted to disappear. One was suspicious and the other one was impossible.

"Are you scared?" Fili asked.

Tauriel shook her head. "I have faced worse." Her arms wrapped around her waist. "No matter which direction we go, we just need to keep moving. I just hope that we start moving soon."

Fili nodded. His eyes passed over her for a few seconds longer, a curious gleam in his eyes. However, he and his brother said nothing else on the matter.

"Damnable elves," another muttered in Westron.

Tauriel simply raised her hood.

Fili and Kili both looked wide eyed at each other, their mouths hung open. Still, they never said anything.

It is hard, after all, to apologize for a sin one has not committed.

* * *

Though they had barely spoken to one another, it was Bilbo whom Tauriel could relate to the most. He too stiffened the most when they mentioned elves; from the book she had seen him reading earlier, it was clearly old and elvish - the kind filled with songs and poems that were probably older than even Thranduil. Bilbo usually did not keep the book out long, only reading about one or two songs or poems before putting the book away again where none could see it.

Once, he had seen her watching him read; his face paled, but she simply smiled back.

It was not a secret that begged to be taken from her lips.

* * *

The day's walk had been long, and all of Tauriel's body ached, yet she still could not sleep. Part of her did not want to; the stars were especially bright that night.

And part of her just wanted to admire her knives.

She tore off her coat and set it up on her lap, the sleeves dipping down her sides. She searched everywhere, until she was sure that she had discovered every single knife.

She grinned as she held up each one; it was true - the makings of dwarves truly were the best. The edges of the knives reflected off the dim firelight and the light of the moon above.

It was only in the arena where Tauriel had been given unlimited knives. Outside of the bloody sporting arena, the Orcs had stripped her of all but one knife; if she were out hunting with Azog then she would have a rather good one, but only one. Even her arrows had been specifically numbered, and Azog had made sure to always count before they left.

If the Orcs saw her now...

She held each one in her hands, letting herself grow accustomed to them. Some were incredibly sharp, while others were longer. Each one was different, but it never took her long to think of a good use for them.

Her face reflected back on her from the edge; she had not looked at herself in a long time. Some older facial scars had healed, returning to smooth, soft skin. Her hair was longer and messier; if she ever got the chance, she would absolutely need to wash it.

Still, if she looked at her reflection she knew that it was her looking back. From the tips of her pointed ears to the sharp curve of her nose, Tauriel knew exactly who she was.

Fili had not been lying; there were knives everywhere. She counted a total of thirty four in his coat alone. Considering his brother's words, he still likely had far more hidden away.

That night, Fili had watch duty after Nori. Putting her new coat back on, she walked over to the tree that he had recently sat down by.

"Thank you."

"Oh," he replied, "it was nothing. I am just glad that it helps."

They sat together for a while, Tauriel's eyes on the star dotted sky above and Fili's eyes on the camp. Eventually though, Fili's yawns got the better of him and he fell asleep again.

Tauriel put up her hood and prepared her bow; waking someone else up would be pointless.

Though her muscles were tense, and she took note of every noise in camp, on that night everyone was safe.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time that Tauriel felt a knife in her hand again, after weeks of traveling alone in the cart, was also when the Orcs had lowered her food ration. The meat had become smaller and smaller, and eventually all they had started to give her were small pieces of dry bread.

"Are you hungry?" Azog asked. He stood at the entrance of the cart, Tauriel sitting at the far end.

She wrapped her arms around her waist tighter. She shook her head, meeting his eyes.

Her stomach, however, was empty, a weight that she could feel in her chest. If she ever dreamed, she saw her family, friends, and feasts. Beneath the stars, all Mirkwood elves would eat and drink together. She saw meats of all kind, freshly grown vegetables, and sweet red wine all sitting before her. They were as real as any dream could make them - until she woke up back in the cart empty handed.

He threw the knife to her; it landed only a few inches away from her and clattered against the floor.

For a moment, she only stared at it wide eyed. That had been one of her knives. Instinctively, one hand shot to cover the front of one of her boots, while the other reached forward and wrapped around the knife's hilt.

"You can come out and eat." Though there was a distance between them, she could easily see his facial scars.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and walked forward. Her stomach ached, and she knew that she would not be able to refuse.

Not unless she wanted to starve.

She held the knife tightly, her free hand against the wall. Her legs shook as she walked, unused to moving like this.

Azog helped her out, his eyes on her hand.

"There is more than enough to go around tonight." He smiled, showing off sharp, yellow teeth. "Feel free to eat your fill."

Tauriel did not meet his eyes. Her stomach rumbled, and the smell of cooking meat made her mouth water.

Azog sat next to her, his eyes on her lap.

Tauriel merely clutched her knife tighter.

There was no point in fighting, not now. Not when the eyes of every Orc in camp were on her.

Once she and Azog were served their night's meal - a very large piece of meat with two slices of thick, dry bread, she immediately began to eat. She dropped her knife in her lap and covered the hole between her crossed legs with her plate.

The meat was hot and juicy, and cooked well enough that it was not too hard or burnt. Blood dripped down her chin and onto her fingers, but she licked it up.

The meat was salty to her tongue, making her wonder for a moment just how it had been cooked. What animal was it as well? The thoughts, however, were fleeting. Why worry about them when she could eat?

Her meat was soon gone, leaving only bones. She had picked every bit of meat and fat off of the bones as she could, until they were so white and naked that one would have thought a vulture had picked it clean.

She moved onto her bread. It was a little better than what they normally gave her. It was easier to swallow, and she found herself biting off more and more the longer that she ate, even if her mouth was already full. One slice of bread was finished, and soon replaced by another.

The whole in her belly just could not be filled. By the time her plate had been licked clean, an emptiness still filled her insides.

Sometime while she had eaten, someone had placed down a cup of water for her. She picked it up, brought the cold metal to her lips, and finished it all in a mere two gulps. Though not the coldest of water, it was sweet and soothing to her otherwise dry throat.

It took longer for Azog to finish. She cradled the plate with one hand, while the other was between her legs, wrapped around her knife.

She almost wanted to risk it and attempt killing him.

Almost.

His eyes never left her, though hers left his. Once her food was gone, her heart raced.

Finally, he himself finished his food and gave his bones to his warg. He dropped his plate to the ground, the object releasing a sudden clank that made Tauriel wince and hold her knife tighter. Azog chuckled, his shadow covering her sitting form completely.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?"

Tauriel clutched her knife even tighter.

"I asked," Azog continued, "if you enjoyed your dinner."

Tauriel bit her lip for a moment. She turned her head up to face his and finally spoke. "Yes, I did."

He smirked. "My guess was correct then. You ate as a starving warg would."

A few other Orcs chuckled, but stopped at Azog's heated glare.

"Now then," Azog went on, his eyes returning to meet Tauriel's. "How do you plan to pay for it?"

For a moment, the pain in her belly subsided. All she could hear was her racing heart.

"Pay for it?"

"Dear, surely you should know that nothing in life truly comes free." He leaned down, getting on one knee. Still, he was taller than her. "Now, tell me, how shall you pay?"

"With an ear!" one Orc had yelled.

"No, a finger!" went another.

At the time, it had been only Orc speech to her, a bunch of confusing words in another language.

Still, all the heat had left her body.

Azog, however, had a different idea. He barked out in order quickly in Orc tongue, and various Orcs headed forward, all of their eyes set in one on the middle. It was covered in diets and scars, and openly glared at everyone.

"What you see before you," Azog said, "is a pest. An overgrown fly, in fact. He needs to be eradicated." Azog motioned towards her. "That is where you come in. You are to get rid of him for me. It would be meat for meat, you could say."

Tauriel's stomach twisted. Had she eaten-?

"I gave you meat, and you give meat to the wargs."

Tauriel relaxed, if only slightly. It had to have been something that the Orcs caught on a hunt that she ate earlier. After all, they likely would have just tasted plain awful.

"Go on," Azog said. "The wargs are hungry; being meat for our dogs is the only good thing this traitor will ever do."

She nodded.

"Then he will pay for his crimes and you will pay for your food."

The Orcs circled around them, trapping both inside a wall of Orcs. Most looked excited.

The Orc she had to fight had no weapons, though he raised meaty fists.

There was no official starting point. The circle simply formed, the hold on his arms were released and he was pushed forward, and then they were before each other. Without warning, Tauriel jumped forward and struck just above his eye. He missed punching her, and had only one hand. The other was at his forehead. He groaned out, the sound echoing through the small area.

The Orcs yelled for Tauriel to continue, Azog being one of the loudest. They had only seen one small stream of blood.

This time, the Orc attempted to strike first. His aim was off, as one hand covered his eye, and she easily could dodge any of his strikes. With her legs finally moving again, rushes of adrenaline fueled her, making her go faster and faster.

The next strike was in his arm. She dug in deep, and then just as quickly pulled her knife out. Blood squirted all over him, and her own knife was wet and red.

He removed his hand from his eye, and began to strike with his clear arm. That was her next target, as she again sunk her knife in deeply to him.

His cries made her head ache, and part of her desperately wanted to stop fighting and cover her ears, but she knew that was impossible. She needed to get this done with.

Using all her strength, she pushed him back, her knife still in his arm. She placed a booted foot on his chest and leaned down and pulled her knife out.

One of his hands still worked, and he grabbed for her hair.

Tauriel heard Azog cry out in anger.

She stabbed her knife in the Orc's hand, and he released her. Stepping fully on top of him, she reached down and stuck her knife as far as she could into the Orc's neck. For good measures, she pulled it out and stabbed him in his head as well. It was better safe than sorry.

She stood over him, watching him suffer.

Then, it was over and everyone was clapping and cheering.

Azog gave her extra food and water that night, and had her checked by healers outside of the cart. No wounds were found, and no damage had been done to her scalp.

He was the one to lead her back to the cart, a grin on his face. By then, he had taken Tauriel's knife away, and her hand felt empty.

When she went inside, he followed after her. The cart creaked beneath his weight, yet wielded to him.

Sitting down at the farthest corner, Azog pulled Tauriel in his lap and placed his face in her hair.

In that moment, Tauriel almost wished that the fight had not been so easy and that the wargs had not gotten meat so quickly. She would have much rather been out there fighting than trapped in the arms of the Orc. There was nothing more terrifying than being held by a monster.

"You never did tell me your name."

Tauriel froze.

"What is it, elf?"

For a moment, she considered lying. Then again, what point was there in it? What could they use against her?

"Tauriel."

"What a pretty name." Azog chuckled. "Considering where we found you, little warrior, you truly are the forest's daughter."

Goosebumps ran up her arms and legs. "How do you know its meaning?"

Azog chuckled. "Orcs can be educated as well, dear Tauriel."

She shivered.

For the longest time, his eyes roamed over her body. Sometimes, his hands would follow along after them. He stared at her intensely, to the point where she almost thought that he was jealous.

But of what? Surely no one would truly want to be her.

When he finally left, Tauriel curled up into a ball, trying to get every part of herself together. Then, it was only her skin and clothes against herself, no Orcs or any other strangers.

She never noticed when the tears started, and she was surprised that they were able to be stopped.

* * *

In the (seventy? Eighty? Ninety? One hundred?) years that she had been gone, the world had changed. Tauriel still stepped on the earth lightly, her bow raised and ears alert for any noise. The problem was that now there were a lot more noises to attend to.

The world was darker now, and more and more things shot out of the ground. Even in daylight, trees blocked out the sun; though she had eaten breakfast shortly before, it felt as if dusk were already falling.

They were not even in Mirkwood yet; the name sent chills up her spine. If others were still calling it that, then surely the forest did not reflect its first name or former glory.

"Well," Gandalf stated, "we should be headed in the right direction."

"Just great," Dwalin muttered, "we are one step closer to Mirkwood."

Tauriel stiffened.

"Actually, Master Dwalin," Gandalf responded, "we are not headed straight for Mirkwood."

"And why," Thorin said, "is that?"

"We are stopping to take a rest at the home of an ally of mine."

"Who would live out near here?" Dwalin asked.

"Someone with different tastes than you, Master Dwarf."

The group headed on. Tauriel had no idea who this ally was, but stopping to rest at a house sounded nice. For one thing, it would make the day end much earlier than if they walked on forever until finally someone suggested to set down camp.

"Where do you think we are going?" Kili asked.

"I have no idea," Tauriel responded.

"Fili?"

"I do not know either, but I hope that it has good food and somewhere warm to sleep." He stepped forward. "Really, that is all I need."

As the group headed onwards, Tauriel began to relax. The mysterious house was getting closer, and the pain in her feet was getting easier to ignore.

Along the way, Fili and Kili told a few jokes. Most flew over her head (and she did not hide that fact, giving them confused looks), but a few made her laugh. Her mind filled with images of warm soup and fluffy, freshly baked bread, and delicious, well cooked meat of all kinds - chicken, beef, and lamb. All sounded delicious, and her mouth watered at the very thought.

Her thoughts were what gave her one second longer to prepare. The howls broke her train of thought, and for a moment she stood still as a statue.

The howls only increased, and she could hear the sound of hooves trampling. They were lighter than that of horse hooves, but still easy to hear, especially as they got closer.

"Orcs!" Gandalf yelled. "Follow after me, quickly! The house is close!"

Tauriel raced forward, putting her hood up. Her heart raced, and her bow was in her hands. She could feel the weight of the knives as she ran, every single one of them.

Just keep running, Tauriel thought. Keep running and no one will fight, and we will be safe in the wizard's ally's house.

Her heart raced.

But who was this ally? How did Gandalf know that they were protected? Tauriel had seen Orcs break into hundreds of thousands of homes before, not caring who they hurt or what damage they caused.

Fili and Kili and a few other dwarves were behind her. Constantly, she looked over shoulder, only relaxing in just the slightest way when she saw that they were all fine. The Orcs were visible, but specs. None were close enough to start a fight, and hopefully none had recognized her.

Once she was done checking up on them, she picked up her pace.

Once the house came into view, Tauriel's heart only raced faster. What protection could that place actually give? She sensed no magical spell over it; Gandalf had not even said that the place was owned by a magic user.

Her heart, however stopped racing once she saw the bear. It ran forward, jaw clenched and eyes wide. It let out a piercing growl that made her heart skip a beat; the sound echoed through her ears.

She looked over her shoulder and watched the great beast run past. The Orcs turned and fled - every last one of them.

The other dwarves had noticed as well. Fili and Kili raced forward, until they were at her sides.

"Tell me that I was not the only one who saw that," Fili said. "Kili? Tauriel?"

"I saw it!" Kili was grinning from ear to ear. "Who knew that Orcs were afraid of bears? We could probably all kill one if we tried."

"I don't eat bear," Tauriel remarked, "nor do I want its skin - especially when a bear just saved ours."

Kili's eyes widened. "Did you just make a joke?" He grinned.

Tauriel rolled her eyes. "Come on, we need to get inside." The doors were wide open, a few other dwarves and Gandalf behind it.

Once inside, Tauriel went completely still for a moment. The Orcs had retreated, and a great bear was chasing them away. It was certainly large for a bear, and even more wild than most.

Could it be?

She shook her head. There was no time to think of it. The entire company was working together to close the large front door, and she put all her muscle into it. She needed to keep the Orcs out and away from her.

"Keep pushing," she said.

"Go on," Gandalf added.

Once the door was closed, Tauriel let out a sigh of relief and stepped away from the door. It had closed with a great thunk, and the heavy wooden lock was in place.

"Master Gandalf," Dori asked, looking around the house. "Where is this ally of yours? I only see farm animals."

It was true; the place was larger than it looked from the outside, and filled with a number of animals. Most had seemed to take no notice of the newly arrived guests. The house was mainly made of wood, and had a large collection of crates and barrels inside.

"Our ally, a skin changer named Beorn," Gandalf replied, "is currently outside chasing after the Orcs."


	5. Chapter 5

Tauriel sat down in the furthest corner of the skin changer's home, landing in soft, sweet smelling straw. Few animals hung around this spot, and she was a good deal away from the door while being close to a window that she could easily climb through. Slowly, she removed her dark hood (and attached cape) and let it fall into the hay. Once it was off, the coat that Fili had loaned her was visible. She removed it as well, though she did grab a few of the knives inside and place them among her belt.

Underneath were dirty, grey Orc clothes that Azog had commissioned for her. They were just her size, but seemed wrong on her body the longer that she looked at them. Part of her wanted to rip off her shirt, trousers, and boots, but she knew that she could not. There was nothing else that she had to wear.

Still, it would be nice to wear something not made by Orcs again.

Without thinking, she pulled the coat back on. She relaxed the moment it reached her arms, despite its heavy weight.

She folded the hood and placed it under her arms before standing again. It was only then that she noticed the two dwarves approaching her.

"Is something the matter?" Fili asked. He placed his supplies down, and Kili followed after him. Both even put down their weapons.

Tauriel shook her head. "I just never expected to come here." She bit her lip for a moment, looking away from both of them. The words were on her tongue, and it would take only seconds to let them free. Surely Fili and Kili would find out anyway...

For a moment, she stiffened. Why had Thorin and his company been so silent about her past? Why hadn't there been an onslaught of questions upon her? Why hadn't they picked her apart until they knew Tauriel better than she did? Could they really have trusted her solely because she asked if Azog was dead?

She stepped forward, her voice a low whisper. "Can I tell you two something? Just you two?"

They both nodded.

"I used to know Beorn."

For a moment, neither said anything, only looked at each other.

"I knew him, back when the Orcs..." The word sounded wrong on her tongue, and she turned silent.

What have I been thinking? Tauriel thought. Her arms mechanically wrapped around her waist, and she looked to the ground.

If Beorn didn't defeat the Orcs or drive them away then she was a sitting duck. The Orcs could take down the door, break inside, and kill all the dwarves and capture Tauriel again. They had certainly faced harder situations before. It was a miracle that Beorn was even still alive, and another miracle in and of itself that she (possibly) could see him again.

That was if the Orcs didn't kill him first, like they had wanted to all those years before.

Her legs weakened below her. Oh, they really were in danger. Tauriel wasn't sure if she had the strength to run if she needed to. Besides, where would she go? Was there any place that she could actually hide?

She didn't even notice her legs caving in, or feel the impact of hitting the floor.

If only because she was grabbed before she could fall. Two sets of arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Tauriel, are you sick?" Kili asked, eyes wide. "Did something happen-"

"The Orcs are going to come." Images flashed in her mind of the Orcs on Warg back and holding their weapons, ready to strike and lusting for blood. "They're going to come and rip through everything, through everyone, and then I'll be captured again. And Azog will-"

"Tauriel!" This time it was Fili who spoke. He motioned for the three to sit down, backs against the wall. Hay spilled out onto Tauriel's lap.

Fili and Kili leaned forward, wrapping around her in a hug.

"Tauriel," Fili continued. He spoke with surety, capturing both her attention and his little brother's. "If the Orcs come, we will fight." He tightened his arms around her for a moment. "I promise."

Slowly, she removed her arms from her waist and wrapped one arm around each of theirs back. It was strange, hugging others and being hugged back instead of just hugging herself. No one had showed her this kind of attention since she was a child, since her parents were alive and she lived with her friend's and family in Mirkwood.

The tears came in an instant.

"Tauriel," Kili began, his voice shaking. "Do you need something?"

She shook her head. "I don't want you two to die; I don't want anyone in the company to die. You have been so kind to me. You don't deserve to be ripped through, not for being nice to me and helping me and not for being Durin."

Both stiffened.

Fili raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Azog doesn't just want your uncle dead, but you two as well.  
You are Thorin's nephew's, correct?"

Both nodded.

Even before they had interacted, she had heard them call Thorin their uncle. Still, they had been joking around at the time. Surely that had just been another joke.

Tauriel's chest tightened. "He wants your heads too." Quickly, she removed her arms from them and wrapped them around herself once more.

If Azog knew that they had touched he would make their last moments the most painful in their short lives.

And if Azog knew that Tauriel had willingly touched them, he would-

"Please," she whispered, looking back down to her lap. "Please grab your weapons and give me some time alone. I don't want to get you two hurt."

For a moment, her eyes looked over to both of their faces. Both made her clutch her own waist tighter.

"I'm sorry," Tauriel continued. "But you two are my friends, and I don't want either of you getting hurt because of it."

For a moment, both squeezed her tighter and then pulled away.

"We'll be back," Fili said as he reached down to pick up his swords. He reached a hand towards the front of his trousers and pulled out a large knife. "Until then, we have protection. See?"

She nodded.

"Don't worry about it, Tauriel." Kili grinned, though Tauriel had no idea how. "If the Orcs do come, we won't go down without a fight." He held his bow up higher. "I promise that I won't die."

Fili nodded, and held out his hand.

Warily, Tauriel took it.

His grip was firm as he shook hands with her, as the people of men did. "I promise too."

Once her hand was free, she leaned further against the wall, until her back ached. Fili and Kili moved on into another part of the home, leaving her alone. She grabbed her own bow and cradled it to her chest, her other hand clutching a sharp metal arrow.

* * *

It started out with criminals. Even Orcs had wrongdoers, those who stole or cheated or simply upset someone above them. Tauriel took quick looks at them, letting the faces blur but remembering the weak spots. She was the one who always struck first, and made sure every blow counted.

The Orcs fell so easily; the criminals were weak, mere shells of what those above them were. Fighting them made her wonder how they could be related to Azog or Yazneg. By the time it was over, her arms and weapons usually needed to be thoroughly washed, lest they be stained.

Once she had an Orc down, the others would cheer. Above the cage that both Tauriel and the criminal had been pushed in, ongoers would watch with wide, hungry eyes. Bets were made and meat was eaten - of what, Tauriel did not know.

Most days she only had one or two criminals to fight. Nothing too hard, and what usually made her just bearly break out a sweat. Other days, the arena would send in criminal after criminal. Her skin would turn red and her breathing rapid, and the floor would be wet as well, staining her boots. The longer that she fought, the more that the Orcs cheered. And then another criminal would be sent out, and she would have to get rid of it, often by pulling out arrows from the corpses of her past victims.

Most of those criminals looked at her with fear. A few tried to fight, but Tauriel was faster and was always given good meals after the fighting ended. The sick, skinny beasts before her were lambs before a wolf.

Eventually, the supply of criminals would run out for the day, and Tauriel would be led out. A number of the Orcs who came to her stuffed food and coins into her hands, while others begged for a souvenir. Wordlessly, she would send them away with one of her arrows.

The Orcs would lead her to Azog, and Azog would lead her to a hot bath and a feast.

Tauriel would spend hours in the bath if needed to wash herself off. Dried blood was pulled from her skin and floated in the water around her. Wash cloths ran over her skin, and she used up every cleaning item that she possibly could. Once she was out, she would dry herself off and check over her body one more time.

The food was grand - meats and bread and cheeses and well seasoned vegetables. When she finished one plate, she was given another. Cups would be refilled in moments. Desserts came afterwards, and no matter how much Tauriel had eaten before, she always found more room in her stomach. Sweet cakes and berry filled pies were easily swallowed, along with cookies and honey covered sweet bread. She could eat and eat and eat, and everything would be worth it.

* * *

"Tauriel?"

Tauriel looked up. "Oh," she replied, looking over the small ginger dwarf before her. Quickly, she searched her mind for a name. "Is something wrong, Ori?"

Ori pointed over towards the table. "Fili and Kili asked me to come get you. They say dinner is ready, and tonight's meal will actually be edible. Bilbo cooked tonight." Ori chuckled, and Tauriel returned it with a small smile.

"May I ask you something, Master Dwarf?"

Ori nodded. "Is something the matter?"

Tauriel shook her head and stood up, stretching out her limbs. How long had she been sitting, lost in thought? "Has Beorn returned yet?"

"No."

"Oh." She sniffed at the air. "What is for dinner?"

"Bread and beef stew, with honey cakes for dessert." Ori motioned her to follow him. "I heard that it will be wonderful."

Once at the dinner table, which was rather long for a man who seemed to live alone, Tauriel was served her plate by Bilbo Baggins himself. The hobbit's arms and the front of his shirt were covered in flour, and he was instructing everyone on where to sit.

"Oh, Tauriel," he said, noticing where she was. "I was actually going to sit there, with Thorin next to me. You would not mind moving, would you?"

She merely stood up, grabbed her bow from where it sat on the table, and moved. The plate before her had been untouched.

"I apologize," she said.

"Oh, nothing is your fault. Please feel free to sit beside Ori."

Tauriel sat down once more, placing her bow down by the scribe's brand new war hammer. Her eyes hovered over it for a moment.

"A gift from Master Dwalin," Ori commented.

Tauriel nodded. "It certainly looks sturdy."

He nodded.

Tauriel was again served a plate. She picked up her spoon and prepared to try the stew, when Bilbo came back. This time, however, he was herding two dwarves to the empty seats on her right.

"Trying to eat all my dessert early," Bilbo said. His arms were crossed over his chest. "Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"We weren't going to eat them all," Kili replied.

"You still have crumbs on your beards!"

Both rolled their eyes before sitting down. Kili placed his bow down next to hers; it was so much smaller in comparison.

Kili looked over to her and grinned. His hands were underneath the table, and he reached over and put something in her lap.

After taking a spoonful of her stew, she put her hands in her lap and discovered two warm desserts.

"One's for Ori," Kili whispered.

She reached over and dropped it in the scribe's lap. When he raised an eyebrow, she moved her head back so he could see Kili.

One by one, she tore the cake apart and put the pieces in her mouth when no one else was looking. That wasn't hard considering everyone else was happily caught up in their own meals.

The stew and bread was also good. She was one of the first to finish, and one of the first in line for seconds.

By the time she had finished her main course, honey cakes were being passed out and Tauriel's stomach was rumbling again. She swallowed two more, and then wiped sticky honey off of her face with a cloth napkin. Then, it was all drowned out with a large mug of milk.

Once that was over and the plates, bowls, and eating utensils were (literally) thrown to the sink, Tauriel went back to her corner.

"Did you have to do that again?" Bilbo called from the kitchen, though Tauriel had no idea whom or what he was referring to.

Her corner was quiet and dark. Part of her was ready to curl up and go to sleep, but another part of her kept her awake. Absently, she counted out her arrows, using moonlight as her only light source.

She stopped when something fell on her, covering both her and her arrows.

"Sorry!"

Tauriel pulled the blanket off of her to reveal a red faced Kili.

"I should have just handed it to you, shouldn't I?"

Tauriel nodded.

Fili was near him, setting up his own place to sleep.

"I apologize again for earlier," Tauriel said, strapping her quiver back to her back. "I truly am sorry."

"You already told us," Fili said. "We forgive you."

"You were just nervous." Kili sat down and wrapped his own blanket around himself. "Sorry again about the blanket."

"It's fine." Tauriel wrapped it around herself.

Fili and Kili were close, though the corner was still hers. The two slept side by side, as if fighting off chills together.

"Thank you," Tauriel said.

* * *

Diolir again lay still, her meat nearly untouched. Only hours before, she had been racing forward frantically, her nose to the ground.

"She's close," Azog said.

Diolir's tail moved slightly, though the rest of her remained still.

The warg was certainly smart, Azog realized. Smarter than most. Most would have judged the beast to be only a regular bear and would have tried to fight it had their Orc masters not made them retreat.

"He cannot patrol the area forever." He reached a hand out to pet her, but she pulled herself away. Once she was a few feet away from him, she laid down again and curled up into a ball. Eventually, the warg closed her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Tauriel could only remember bits and pieces of her dream. She knew that there had been a forest, tall and dark and green. The trees' leaves were green, as was the grass and ivy. Flowers dotted the area, large ones with purple or blue petals; their stems and leaves were a deep, dark green. When Tauriel leaned down to pick one up, her own hand turned slightly green just by touching it, staining her skin. Still, she smiled and held the flowers to her nose, breathing in their fresh smell.

The forest was dark, but bits of light broke in through the shadows. Spots of light dotted the area, little pieces of the sun that the forest's leaves could not keep in the sky. Judging by what she could see through the branches, the time was around noon and the sun was high. A light breeze ran through her hair, sending it flying in all directions.

This forest was not Mirkwood, but it still felt like home. The few animals that passed her by had seemed unfazed by her, even with the large bow on her back.

Tauriel walked on, each footstep careful. Trees surrounded her in all directions, until she could not remember where her starting point was. No matter where she went, the trees did not thin in any direction.

Bugs passed her by, buzzing happily or crawling across the ground. It was hard to catch a glimpse of the tiny creatures, but Tauriel knew that they were there.

Time had moved like it always did in dreams - strangely. One moment, light was seeping down through the trees, and in the next moment the shadows were deepening.

Tauriel turned her head towards the tree tops and looked to the sky through the trees' branches. As always, the stars shone brightly, ever out of Tauriel's reach. Try as she might, she could not touch them, even if she wanted to.

Even dreams had their limits.

She stood still, ignoring the sound of bugs and the snapping of twigs. All that mattered were the ever resilient stars, shining on even as the world below them fell apart.

And then the dream had ended. Why Tauriel had woken up, she did not know. Still, she had been awake and sitting up for a good few minutes. Sleep evaded her, and her eyes remained open. Moment by moment, her eyes adjusted to the dark, revealing bugs far larger than the ones in her dream. They, like the dwarves, were all sleeping.

Tauriel wrapped her blanket around her tighter, and then surveyed the room. Other than the sound of snoring and a few animal noises, there was nothing to hear. Fili and Kili were both asleep, though Kili's blanket had nearly rolled completely off of him. It now only covered a small fraction of him. Tauriel quickly leaned forward and laid it back over him. Considering the accidental fuss he had made over a blanket, it seemed only fair that she worry about him being cold as well.

She leaned back against the wall and stared off at the night. The shadows danced before her, but she had long since learned how to entertain their press ensue without fear. Shapes formed from the lack of light, and Tauriel tried to assign names and images to them like she sometimes did for clouds.

The large, dark figure that entered the house, however, was not a shadow. That she knew with certainty, as the figure looked onto her.

"Beorn," she said, though she doubted that he had actually heard her.

From what little she could see of him, he actually looked much healthier. He had eaten more and his muscles showed, rather than retreating into his body like they had back when the Orcs had him.

Part of her wanted to race up to him and embrace him, but another part of herself kept her body firmly planted on the hay and wood. Beorn turned around and headed further into his home.

Tauriel's blanket remained still in her lap, never once disturbed.

* * *

Sunlight had spilled onto Fili's eyes, though most of the room was still dark. Beorn's home was a strange, large place. The furniture alone made Fili feel small, the animals even more so. The large bee in front of him was humongous. Until the bee flew away, Fili's eyes never left it.

Once it was gone, he felt safe enough to look over to his brother. Kili was still asleep, snoring softly. Reaching forward, Fili placed his blanket over his brother, careful to not wake him.

Kili did not stir. Rather, he slept on, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Only when he was sure that his brother was fine did he dare to look away from him. His eyes soon met with Tauriel's sleeping figure. Red hair spilled out across the hay, and the blanket Kili had given her the night before was still wrapped around her. Though her quiver was still on her back and she was cuddling her bow in her sleep like a child would a stuffed toy, she looked to be at peace.

Walking as softly as he could, he headed towards Tauriel's corner. Once he was there, he got on his knees and reached towards her blanket. It had gotten crumpled in the night, so he straightened it and made sure no part of her body, save her head, was left untouched by the blanket's warmth.

Her green eyes shot open and locked on him. For a moment, she looked ready to move.

"Fili?" She blinked a few times. "What are you doing, Fili?"

"I was only checking up on you and Kili."

"Is something wrong with him?"

Fili shook his head.

"The Orcs-"

"Are not here. Beorn is protecting us." He patted her shoulder softly, and then pulled the blanket up a little more.

"If we are not in any danger, then why do you look after us?"

"Because that's my job." He chuckled. "If anyone around here is supposed to worry, then they are me." Fili placed a hand down on top of her; though a blanket covered her, he could still feel her own warmth from under it.

Tauriel looked away from him. "Thank you."

"You may go back to sleep, Tauriel. This place is safe."

"Safe..." Her eyes looked hollow for a moment, and he felt her body stiffen from where he was touching her.

"Everything will be fine." He smiled. "Kili and I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Really?"

"Really."

* * *

She had shut her eyes, though she did not feel the least bit tired. Warmth had filled her ever since Fili had spoken with her. Though he was gone, and she listened to him leave, Tauriel knew when she opened her eyes he would still be there. Kili would as well.

For a moment, she thought back to the few times that they had touched her. They always did it gently on her upper body, or gave her hugs. The brothers were so warm and welcoming, so different from-

Her eyes burst open. Beorn's home was exactly as she had last seen it. Kili still snored on, still wrapped up in two blankets, and the rest of the company that she could see did the same.

Do not think about him, she thought. Listen to Fili; he is right - this place is safe.

* * *

Beorn was a bear of a man even when he took the form of a man. He stood tall, towering over Fili by a few good feet. His eyes were steely, judging over everything.

He was also the only other person awake.

"Shall we prepare breakfast?" His voice was gruff, and his eyes returned to the sleeping company.

Fili nodded.

Beorn began to dig around in high kitchen cabinets that Fili could never dream of reaching. He had one bag of food after another; ether only thing more impressive than it was Bilbo's pantry. Fili, however, doubted that Beorn would allow his pantry to be emptied and his plates be thrown in front of him.

"I see that you came with Gandalf."

Fili nodded.

"I had heard of him, but never met him. I cannot say that he is quite what I expected of a wizard." He placed down a large bag of flour.

"I like him more than the rumors and stories describe him."

Beorn raised an eyebrow, but did not question him further on the subject of the wizard. "How many of there are you here? I need to know how much food to make." Again, Beorn returned to his cabinets and began to dig around.

"Sixteen," Fili said. "Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, one wizard, and one elf."

Beorn's eyes widened. "An elf? I thought dwarves hated elves."

"Most do," Fili replied. "Still, a few I have met are quite agreeable, especially her."

"Her? Do you speak of your company's sixteenth member?"

"Yes, yes I do." Fili's eyes looked back, though it was impossible to see either her or Kili from where he stood. "Her name is Tauriel, and she is the finest elf that either my brother or I have ever met."

"Tauriel?" Beorn stepped back.

"She said-"

Beorn cut him off; judging by his face, Fili doubted that he had even listened to his two words. "Do you speak of the Orc slave girl, Tauriel? The one with hair of fire, and a burning fighting style to match?" Beorn's face paled, yet his eyes softened. "Is that the Tauriel that you speak of?"

Fili froze, three of Beorn's words ringing through his mind.

Orc slave girl.

What Beorn had described fit her perfectly.

Tauriel had never said much about her time with the Orcs. She had wept in joy on the carrock once her confusion had ended and she had regained her balance. Whenever the name of the creatures was brought up she would tense. Fili's coat never seemed to leave her now that she had it.

Still, though he knew it was true, it felt so strange to have the words spoken out loud directly like that. There were no puzzle pieces to put together, or words to say in whispers.

Then again, Fili doubted that a man in shackles would willingly censor himself.

"Yes," Fili responded. "That is Tauriel, our Tauriel."

* * *

The criminals had been easy kills. Tauriel knew her weapons well, and was used to the feel of an arrow or knife or sword. Even as a young child, she had been no alien to the workings of weapons (though she had not heeded her parents words on just how important they were).

The Orc criminals rarely had weapons, having to rely solely on their body for the fight. It was hard to call the fights fair, but Orcs were not the kind to have even playing fields. It was only in the arena that Tauriel had power.

When she entered, she had her weapons with her and was ready to fight. Her heart raced and a light coating of sweat fell down her neck, yet she remained strong. The Orc had to be stopped, and Tauriel could not do that if she let her worry consume her.

The only way to fight her fear that she would slip up and be killed by an Orc criminal was to beat them first. When she left the arena, her clothing was covered in blood and her earlier energy drained. Sweat poured off of her in buckets, until she was sure all of Moria could smell her. Sometimes her stomach would rumble, and she would be glad for her upcoming feast, and other times she would feel ready to vomit, even if she had not been fed in hours.

The fights were all the same; despite Tauriel's secret fears, none of the Orcs had the power to stand against her. Each Orc fell to the ground and lied in its own blood, before she left the arena and its body to rot.

Then they brought in the skin changers.

Tauriel had heard of them as a child, though she had never seen one before. Most were strong, but weakened by the Orcs. Bruises covered many, and they too grew used to hunger.

At first, Tauriel did not fight them. She merely watched from above, with Azog's arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

Sickening was the only word that Tauriel could use to describe it. Whether the skin changers took the form of men in chains or animals, their misery was apparent, and the Orcs were all the more excited for it.

By the side of Azog, she watched the skin changer's fight. A thin wolf attacked an elf, and was so hungry that that the wolf ate the creature. When they turned back into a man, they still had blood around their mouths. The cheers of the Orcs afterwards rang through her ears.

Then one day, she went into the arena to see not an Orc criminal, but a large, dark furred bear.

* * *

When she entered the kitchen, Tauriel felt eyes on her. She stiffened, only slightly comforted by the weight of her weapons.

Beorn, Fili, and a few of the other Company members stared at her.

"He did not lie."

Tauriel looked up. It really was him.

"How did you live?" Beorn was older, now with even more scars and even broader shoulders. Still, his life of freedom had softened his expression, and for the first time ever she saw him smile. Other than that, his man form was exactly as she last remembered it.

Tauriel did not reply, simply walked forward and put her hand against his. Her eyes widened, as if she had expected her hand to pass through a ghost.


	7. Chapter 7

Beorn had certainly made himself a nice little home. Tauriel had wiped the hay from her clothes and enjoyed a hardy breakfast; it was certainly the best meal that she had eaten in a good long while. She had seconds, which Beorn was more than happy to give her.

The whole place was made of wood and stone. From the walls and floors to the homemade furniture, it had a lived in quality that could not be replicated. The entire house, or at least Tauriel supposed, was made by Beorn's own two hands. Back when he had escaped, she had merely imagined him running from the Orcs forever, or worse being caught. Still, she doubted the Orcs would look forever for him, and he didn't seem like the type who could run forever. Perhaps he had seen the land and simply taken a liking to it - taken little and made a lot.

Or, perhaps, the place had been sitting abandoned for a while. It was a lonely little place, and probably was the only house around for miles. Elves and men lived to the east and men, dwarves, elves, and hobbits lived to the west past the mountains. Here was Beorn's place.

Still, Tauriel couldn't shake away the feeling that Beorn wasn't alone, not really. A chess set sat on a small table, its wooden pieces moved as if someone had been playing. Perhaps it had been two members of the company, but that wouldn't explain why Beorn had it in the first place. A game like that took two players. She highly doubted he played with his sheep or horses.

The long wooden table too had many chairs for a man who lived all alone. When they had arrived, there had been enough to seat the entire company, including Gandalf and Tauriel herself, and still leave a spot at the end for Beorn.

The large food supply she could at least understand. If he did ever travel out east to buy food, it was likely that he got enough to last months, perhaps even years.

However, with the company around, she was sure that one of those trips east would have to come sooner rather than later. Tauriel had only eaten seconds - some of the company had managed to eat fourths. Knowing them, once lunch rolled around they would surely be hungry again.

"Tauriel?"

"Beorn?" She looked up to him.

"What troubles you?" His mouth was set in a frown, but his eyes were soft. "Are you thinking of the Orcs?" His eyes hardened at the word, and his frown turned into a scowl. "They are not here, and they will never come. If I have to fight them, then I will. I would do anything to keep this land safe."

Tauriel shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of them."

Beorn sighed. "Good, very good." He placed a warm, large hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "You have nothing to worry about."

Tauriel's eyes wondered to a nearby window, and she watched a few figures run by. They moved too quickly for Tauriel to identify which dwarves that they were, but she did hear them make a few quick, high pitched shouts. Others replied, and they began to laugh.

"Why did you not send me outside with the others?" Tauriel's eyes locked with his. "Why did you ask me after breakfast to stay here?"

And stay there she had. After putting up her plate, she sat back down at her chair and waited for Beorn. The rest of the company had slowly left outside to look at the ponies, bows, and the rest of the supplies that Beorn had offered them. They were going to stay a few more days, but Thorin had wished to look over his newly given wares and plan.

"Erebor is close," he had said earlier that morning. His mouth had been set in a firm, serious line. "The mountains in the distance draw ever closer. Durin's day too is drawing close, and we soon must set off. Still, we also cannot leave unprepared. The road to the mountain is still harsh."

She had seen the mountains herself on the carrock. They had seemed magical; the entire company had been fascinated, and Tauriel was not free from its spell.

"I wished to speak alone with you." He broke his hand away from her and used it to pull up a wooden chair. Its legs creaked as they moved across the cold stone floor. He sat down. "I have many questions, and I was sure asking them in front of the others would bother you."

Tauriel nodded. "I see."

He looked across her, searching her up and down. Tauriel had her cloak on, though the hood was down, and her bow in her hands. "Your clothes and bow are of Orcish make." His face hardened. "I have skins and furs. Take as many as you need, and wash yourself. The first time that I had the chance, I cleaned myself from top to bottom. It felt wondrous." His eyes softened for a moment, and though they were set on her, she doubted that he was seeing her. "I cannot describe the wonder of being free and clean." He looked back to her, his gaze hardening on her bow. "That vile thing is not even good for scrap wood. When you are cleaned and changed, you may go outside and train with the others. A new bow will be waiting."

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you."

"I could never repay you." He stood. "Come, you must get new clothes." He reached over and pulled the bow from her hand. Once it was gone, her arms relaxed; she had never realized what a weight it was. She also pulled the quiver from her back and handed it to him. "I made the bows outside myself. Wood is plentiful, and I assure you that I have good handiwork."

He led her to the small area upstairs. There were three small rooms, most with nothing but a small bed in it. Only one, a rather long one that had not been made, looked as though it had been slept in. At the end, there was a small storage area. Wooden boards creaked as the two walked; if one looked at it from the outside, they would never realize that there was a second story.

Beorn dug through boxes. Opening a chest, he revealed whole piles of cleaned furs, skin, and even some leathers. Opening another, there were boots of many sizes and styles - some looking rather simple, and others looking rather hard or having fur inside.

"Ever since I first arrived here, I have learned to make many things." He gestured towards the items. "Take anything that you might need."

Tauriel dug around, searching through the items. Some clothing was far too large for her, and others probably could only fit Bilbo.

"Who did you make these for?" Tauriel held an undershirt up. It was thick and well made, and looked as though it could fit her. "Very few things look to be your size."

"You."

"Huh?"

"I made them for you. Before you came, they were for no one; these were simply made to pass the time and practice making items. Now, however, anything that you like is yours."

"They are for no one else? But what about others?"

"Do you mean the company?"

Tauriel shook her head. "Your table had so many chairs. You have guests perhaps, an extended family?"

"No." His small smile faded, his normal frown returning. "I do not have guests. There is only me and my animals." He looked to the ground. "I can fill my home with items easily; all I need is more fur and wood. Guests? Good ones are hard to come by, and I trust few strangers."

"Oh. I apologize for asking."

"You have done no wrong, Tauriel."

She removed her cloak and handed it to him. Then, she removed the coat Fili had given her.

"Did the Orcs make that?"

Tauriel shook her head. "It was given to me by a friend in the company. I will need it later." She removed it and carefully folded it up. As she leaned down to place it on the ground, a knife fell out. It made a thud as it hit the ground.

Beorn's eyes widened.

Tauriel put the knife back into the coat and then placed it on the ground. "He gave me the coat for warmth, and the knives are for protection."

He nodded. "You have a good friend." He stepped away from her. "I shall go and prepare your bath. While I do that, I shall leave you in privacy. Again, feel free to take whatever you like." He pointed towards one of the two small rooms with unused beds. "Put whatever you like in one of those rooms. Tonight, you will sleep up here."

"I understand."

"And Tauriel?"

"Yes?"

Beorn's eyes tightened on her. "I have many questions to ask you later, but for now I only have one. When the company leaves, shall you stay here with me?"

Beorn had said that he lived alone; he never said that he was happy about it.

Before she could reply, he turned away from her. "I must be off. Think over your answer."

* * *

Kili stiffened as a bee buzzed past him. Even with his bow in his hands and new arrows in the quiver on his back, he felt helpless around the large bees. Already, Nori had been stung, and he had all but started weeping from pain.

Once it was gone, he looked back to his brother. "Still having trouble learning how to shoot?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"You would think that having me as a brother and looking at Tauriel so long would teach you how to hold a bow correctly. Really, Fili." His brother's face soured, and Kili could only laugh.

Fili looked down to his hands and moved the bow, changing it to where he was holding it correctly. It looked strange in his hands.

"We should practice." Kili pulled an arrow from his quiver and handed it to Fili. Then, he grabbed another for himself. Beorn's arrows were lighter than dwarves made ones, but the metal ends were just as sharp. "How about a challenge? The most to hit that tree in the distance gets to do the other's night watches."

Fili groaned. "As if I would fall for that. Mother taught me not to accept challenges I couldn't win." He lowered his bow. "I get it, Kili; you're the family archer." He looked back to it and then frowned. He dropped it to the ground and reached for the swords on his back. "I will take the bow; it was quite courteous of Master Beorn to give them to us. Still, I have my swords and knives, and I intend to use them."

"Well don't you at least want to practice?"

"Maybe later. For now, I'll just practice with my swords."

Kili pouted. "If Tauriel offered to teach you then you would fill the tree with arrows."

"Well if there was a chance that Tauriel could teach you then you would pretend that you had never picked up a bow in your life." He chuckled.

Kili rolled his eyes.

"I speak the truth. Besides, I'm not going to lose any chances at getting some sleep just you can prove how much better you are than me at archery."

"I still think that you should try shooting a few arrows. I do believe that Master Beorn wouldn't have given them to us if he learned that only one dwarf could actually shoot."

"Fine." Fili sighed and picked up the bow. "Let's pray to Aule that I actually hit the tree."

"Remember when we were younger and you first tried shooting with me?" Kili laughed. Fili in his younger years had a straggly excuse for a beard, had been thin and lanky, had a high voice that often squeaked, and couldn't hold a bow to save his life.

"I tried to forget that for a reason."

"Oh, it couldn't have been that bad."

"When I was younger, I was absolutely mortified. I was afraid to show my face to the other children in the village." Fili prepared his bow. "And if I do remember correctly you didn't let me live it down."

"Fine, maybe it was that bad." Kili laughed.

Fili merely released his arrow.

Both brothers' eyes widened.

"You hit it."

"I did." Fili grinned from ear to ear.

"Time really has changed you." Kili smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Now do you feel like taking up my challenge?"

"Maybe, brother, just maybe." Fili pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back.

"Well maybe that was just beginner's luck. For all you know, every shot after this you could miss."

"Maybe so, Kili."

* * *

Beorn was right; it felt wonderful to be clean. This was nothing like the public Orc baths, nor the private bath Azog owned. It was a large metal tub filled with half warm water. Beorn had left her alone with various handmade soaps and washcloths. By the tub sat some of her new clothes, a towel, and a fur lined pair of boots.

Tauriel dunked her head below the water, letting it cover her completely. The day was rather warm, so the water was a relief.

Grabbing some soap and a washcloth, she began to scrub at her skin. For a while, all she could do was remove every bit of dirt that she saw. She scrubbed it from her body and from under her fingernails. There was dirt on her face and dirt on her legs and between her toes. Dirt was in her hair, from its ends to her scalp.

She scrubbed herself, even after the dirt was gone. If Tauriel was to be completely honest, she smelled absolutely awful. The only reason that no one else in the company had pointed it out was because they smelled just as had (if not even worse).

Tauriel scrubbed and scrubbed, until her skin and hair was completely dirt free and all she could smell on her was the heavy scent of Beorn's homemade soap.

It was easy to almost forget her troubles completely.

Almost.

How was she supposed to answer Beorn's question?

She scrubbed harder, but Beorn's voice repeated the question in her mind. Her face reflected to her back in the water, and even closing her eyes could not help her escape the image of herself.

Beorn wanted an answer, and both yes and no seemed wrong.

When she got out, she dried herself off and changed, but could only partially dry her hair. It was dark with water, and her towel was already wet.

Oh well, Tauriel thought. The day is warm.

* * *

"Fili, you can shoot?"

Fili just about dropped the bow from his hands.

"Sorry for startling you."

The blond dwarf quickly regained his composure. "Sorry, I was just focused. And yes, I can shoot."

"He's just not as good as me." Kili grinned.

Fili rolled his eyes. "And you probably aren't as good as Tauriel."

"You're right, I'm probably not."

Well, that wasn't what he haas expected to come out of his brother's mouth.

Tauriel laughed. "I'm sure that you two are great."

Kili grinned and his eyes softened. He looked ready to kiss her feet if she asked.

"Tauriel," Fili said, squinting his eyes. He had to make sure that what he saw was correct. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I took a bath." She raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not." He lowered his eyes.

"But aren't you going to braid it?" It was as if Kili had read his mind and decided to voice his thoughts.

"Braid it?"

"Dwarves always braid hair right after it's wet." He looked over to Fili and raised an eyebrow.

Kili shot him a quick grin. "That's when it's easiest."

"I mean, that is if you want us to since you are an elf. If you don't feel comfortable with it..."

"No, you two may." She pulled up an end and rolled it between her fingers. "It is fine with me. Besides, I don't want all of this flying in my eyes."

"Well, then let's go inside and get started." Kili surely wouldn't pass this offer up.

Well, Fili thought, Uncle Thorin has tried to braid Bilbo's hair before. If he can do that then surely we can do this. Besides, Tauriel trusts us.

Once inside, Tauriel sat down in a chair and the two brothers got to work.

For a moment, both brothers ran their fingers through her hair. It was so long and soft, softer than Fili had originally imagined. It smelled nice as well, and for a moment all Fili wanted was to hold his nose close to it and to run his fingers through it. Kili's eyes were locked on it, and Fili had to nudge him to keep him from falling spellbound by it. Tauriel wanted them to braid it, not look at it.

The two started to braid. It was easy to work together when there was so much hair. It was nearly to the backs of her knees.

"I've never seen an elf with red hair besides you, Tauriel." Kili said.

Tauriel stiffened.

Fili bit his lip, stilling for a moment. Her soft red hair was in his hands.

Kili seemed to have not noticed, and looked ready to make another comment.

His brother was right, though. The few elves that lived near the Blue Mountains had every natural shade except red, as did the Rivendell elves.

"It is quite beautiful." Fili forced a smile, and then motioned for his brother to shush. He almost considered asking why it was so long, but stopped himself. Already, one risky question had been asked. For all Fili knew, the Orcs rarely ever allowed hair to be cut. There was no point in reopening one of Tauriel's old wounds. "As are your new clothes. Where did you get them?"

"Beorn gave them to me." Tauriel's tone was light, and from what little he could see of her face, she was smiling again.

"You still have my coat, don't you?"

"I wouldn't give it up. I don't want to get cold."

"We wouldn't want you to get cold either." Fili smiled.

The two dwarves continued braiding. The one long braid was of dwarves style, and held together tightly. Kili had managed to fit a few of his beads in it, and Fili put one his spare metal clasps on it at the end. A few members of the company would raise an eyebrow at it, but Tauriel surely wouldn't mind them there if she trusted them to braid her hair.

Fili stepped away and admired it. It was beautiful and practical, and certainly an honor to get to do it.

"Do you like it?" Fili asked.

Tauriel nodded. "I can't see it, but it feels fine." She stood up and suddenly hugged the two. "Thank you both so much."

"You're welcome." Kili wrapped an arm around her, and Fili followed after.

A throat cleared, and Tauriel broke the hug.

"Tauriel," Beorn said, "I see that your bath is finished."

"Beorn," she replied. "It was just as wonderful as you had said. I feel so clean, so free of Orcs." Her shoulders tensed and her lips tightened. Her eyes darted from one brother to the other.

Fili quickly put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Come with me, Kili, we have an archery competition to get to. I think that luck is on my side and I'll win."

"As if," Kili responded. "Sorry, but I have to go, Tauriel. I need to prove a point to Fili."

"Says the future loser," Fili replied.

"Now you're just talking about yourself."

The two quickly gathered their things and left the home.

* * *

Even with what might as well have been a party around her, Tauriel could barely keep her smile glued on.

She stared down at her mug of milk.

"Feel like eating a little more, my little bird?" Beorn patted her on the shoulder. "I have more than enough sweet honey cakes for you."

"I suppose that another wouldn't hurt." They were sweet, warm, and sticky. Tauriel had already finished off one plate of them that night along with the rest of her dinner.

"Little bird?" Kili laughed.

"Yes," Beorn said, voice sharp.

The look on Kili's face almost made Tauriel laugh.

She supposed that "little bird" was better than "little bunny". Bilbo had hardly seemed pleased with the nickname, and Tauriel could see why. Rabbits were prey; at least birds hunted and could fly away from their enemies.

"Sorry, Master Beorn."

Beorn stood up and went off to get more honey cakes.

Tauriel looked back to her milk.

"Tauriel," Kili said, "what's wrong?"

"Did something happen today?" Fili asked, raising an eyebrow.

She couldn't muster up the strength to look up at either of them. "I'm just tired. After this, I'm going to bed."

"What? But Tauriel, it isn't even that late!"

"I've had a long day, Kili." She sighed.

Beorn returned with a plate of warm honey cakes. For a moment, their eyes met. His earlier question rang through their mind.

"Thank you, Beorn." Tauriel quickly took the plate from his hands and lost her eyes to the pile of small yellow cakes. She grabbed one and ate half of it in one bite.

Beorn patted her on the shoulder and then walked away. Tauriel stuffed the last half and another in her mouth, swallowed a bit of milk, and then stood up.

"Good night," Kili said. He was frowning.

Fili nodded. "Go on sand rest. You must need it."

Tauriel pushed the still full plate towards them. "Sleep well." She walked towards the stairs.

"Tauriel!" Kili called, having to raise his voice to get over the sounds of the rest of the room.

Tauriel quickly ran back over to the brothers, darting past a few other dwarves. "What?"

"Aren't you going to your corner? We had it all ready for you." Kili's eyes were wide, and his frown made her heart ache.

"Beorn gave me a room upstairs." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Kili."

"Oh." He stood up suddenly. "How about I go get you your blanket?"

Tauriel nodded.

His face brightened, and Tauriel was able to muster up a small smile in return.

Kili left towards the hay.

"Fili, the coat you gave me is upstairs."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

He beamed as well. "Then it's worth going without it."

Kili returned with the blanket. The moment Tauriel took the blanket from him, she quickly hurried upstairs and pulled off everything but her underclothes.

The blanket Kili had given her was warm, as was the bed and blankets that Beorn had provided. The noise downstairs was surprisingly hard to hear, and her small room was dark. She could just barely make out the shape of the coat Fili gave her folded on the floor.

Sleep was a dream in and of itself. Beorn's words echoed through her mind, and every time she closed her eyes she saw him. Even for such a large, hard muscled man, the heavy frown on his face could easily bring her to tears.

If she left, all of his chairs and beds would be empty except for one. No one would play chess with him. All he would have for companions would be animals. All that afternoon, he had listened to her recount what had happened. When she had cried, he had held her close and soothed her. If anyone would understand, then it would be Beorn.

Fili and Kili flashed through her mind as well. They had been so kind to her. Her fingers reached and felt her braid. It had yet to come undone, even after the long day. Even from the beginning they had been polite to her and tried to help her out. They would surely look even sadder than when they were at the dinner table if she told them that she would not be returning.

Thorin's words echoed through her mind. He wanted his home back so desperately, and he had willingly looked past that she was an elf just so he could say he had another member of his company ready to fight Smaug.

For the first time in a long time, her thoughts were on anything but Orcs and Azog (especially Azog); that didn't, however, make her thoughts any easier or help her to relax.


End file.
